


The Seduction of the Laurel Tree

by mimsical, PeachBriseadh



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greece, Collars, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Fantasy!Ancient Greece, Forced Orgasm, Hate Sex, Historical Inaccuracy, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Underage Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Public Sex, Sex Slaves As A Societal Norm, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 07:34:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18774130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimsical/pseuds/mimsical, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachBriseadh/pseuds/PeachBriseadh
Summary: Jake English is an easily bored minor noble in fantasy!Ancient Greece who goes through "bedwarmer" sex slaves like candy... until one day he ends up purchasing a certain piece of damaged goods with enough attitude to level a city.





	The Seduction of the Laurel Tree

**Author's Note:**

> written rp-style, with mimsical as jake and peachbriseadh as dirk.

It would be rather fair to say that Jake had been known among his peers for some time now as being altogether a bit of a rake. 

Jake personally didn't consider himself all that much more a sybarite than everyone else -- less so, in fact! He had always been much more willing to get down and dirty in a literal sense, after all. The plush life was all well and good, of course, but he'd always appreciated a good romp in the woods just as much. There was something so thrilling about it, bounding from locale to locale with the wind in his hair, chasing the sun and moon across the sky. And, well, perhaps he had let that desire for fresh adventures bleed over a bit into the day to day as well. 

This was the conundrum that had led him to once again go strolling down the late afternoon streets on his way to the auction house. 

He was no lout — he'd given the last one a thorough but gentle trial run, tried to wrangle lasting enjoyment out of the whole affair. It's not as if he was made of money, after all, and it was doing his pockets no good to run through bedwarmers faster than he would go through flimsy cloth slippers worn out in the mud, and yet. It had, once again... just gotten so dull. 

The doors of the auction house were flung open, welcoming in the prospective buyers to join the throng already assembled. Jake took his preferred seat, tucked in against the wall with his back to a pillar. It was, in his opinion, the perfect vantage point -- not so far off as to not be able to see the wares clearly, but neither so close to the front and center that he'd be ambushed with (ugh) conversation. Instead, he got to take his time, get comfortable before he would be obliged to sit up and pay attention. 

And he did just that, leaning back in his chair and shutting his eyes to ward off anyone who might get any ideas about him being seated alone, and instead thought longingly about the cool breeze off the sea. These auction rooms got so warm when packed, stuffed to the brim with excitable bodies. Jake was really not in the mood for excitement, not after his last bird had managed to fly the coop and get completely lost in the halls of court. 

It had turned into quite an embarrassing mess when she'd managed to lead him right into some couple's extramarital affair. Ugh, that had been discomfiting in a way that Jake really preferred to avoid, thanks much. 

"The auction will begin in two minutes!" an announcer called from the stage. With a beleaguered sigh, Jake sat up to pay attention. 

There’s music here, if Dirk closed his eyes, intent on the thrum of a thriving populous, the rattle of cheap iron chains, of the hushed sounds of the world outside the stuffy confines of the auction house. 

Somewhere, distantly outside, harp strings. It might have just been a delirious memory of a man salaciously apprehended, some aggrandize idea of freedom to grasp at while his heart pounded against his chest, but it pulled his focus away from the situation he was regrettably accustomed to all the same. Distractions came easy, held in the dark. Dirks eyes fluttered open as the announcer brought the auction into motion, that loud voice drowning out the softer melodies of the market. 

The manacles around his wrists told him, in a matter of fact way, that he was wasting his fucking time on daydreaming. Of course, Dirk was relentlessly aware. The fact that he even pulled the dreamy bullshit card was mostly out of old die-hard habit. 

It was two minutes until Dirk was to be paraded and displayed like a fat cow up for slaughter, with hopefully less drooling and no endgame consumption. He passed the short time by eyeing the servants of the house as they hustled around the lineup to make last minute preparations. A shoulder slip here, tousled hair there, maybe a pinched cheek to get a good, flattering blush going. They went down the line, one by one. Except Dirk. 

None of them approached him, going so far as to step _around_ him. 

Good, he thought, he wanted it that way. He wore his best ‘will bite’ face, and didn’t plan on dropping the look any time in the near future. Dirk may have been a submissive lover at heart, but he was a recalcitrant bastard first and foremost. Beauty was something he was born with. His attitude was something he had worked long and hard to cultivate into stoic, stony eyed perfection. The warmer next to him let out a worried, trembling sigh as the announcer ordered the doors be opened. 

Amateur. Not that Dirk was any sort of master bedwarmer, but he had been wrung out of that timid shyness a long time ago. He was over it. 

His eyes fell closed as the doors to the outer dais swung open. He kept them closed as the first slave was brought to center stage and waited for his time in the light one more time. 

And here we go, Jake thought to himself with a sigh. The first couple they brought out were timid, pretty little things, easily snapped up by high bidders and ushered off to be collected. He ignored them out of habit, having long lost the patience it took to coax out the shy ones. At least they got through them quickly. 

He didn't bother to throw in a bid for the next one, nor for the one after that, either. There was nothing apparent about them that jumped out as a bad selection, but... there was also nothing that jumped out at all. They were all plain old ordinary, charming enough but nothing to remark upon, though the good handful of folks bidding on each one seemed to beg to differ. 

And, see, therein lay the trouble, plain and simple. 

It wasn't that this or any collection of warmers were dull. Jake had simply wearied of the company of every one he'd kept. For hell's sake, he'd even kept a few pairs, once or twice, just to try and liven things up! No dice, none at all. He kept rolling whole handfuls of dice and landing himself big whopping zeros even though that should have been categorically impossible. 

Neither was it required for Jake to keep a bedwarmer. There were those who didn't. Janey, for instance. She sure as shit didn't fuck around with warmers. But, well. 

Well, sometimes a gent needed to tuck himself in something all snuggly warm that could sing him a pretty song, alright? 

Dirk had stopped seeing faces in the crowd a long, long time ago. 

The buyers all melded together in the end, amalgamating into the same impatient, writhing mass of voices howling for their pound of pretty flesh. It was a means to an end, and Dirk never intended for the short bouts of ‘means’ to last longer than a few weeks. He made sure of it, in fact. The end was out there, he just had to find him. Had to keep moving. 

The auctioneer's made quick work of the warmers before him, dropping robes, listing merits, talents, or the occasional rare detail to increase profit value. Dirk had such a list, he was tall and lithe, broad of shoulder and generously freckled with amber eyes, but it was weighed down with a rap sheet about a mile long. It’s this list that was read aloud for the hungry gathering as he was tugged forward onto center stage by the manacles on his wrists. 

Popping the clasp was easy, and the auctioneer made quick work of loosening Dirk’s thin gown. He kept his eyes downcast, staring at the edge of the stage as it dropped to the stone floor without a sound. He did not twirl, did not bend or curve in elegant, flattering ways like some before him. Dirk Strider stood completely bare, his arms down, wrists crossed below his navel, and tried to look like a snake ready to strike. The Auctioneer used a very regrettably cold rod to lift his chin when Dirk refused to properly present his face, and pulled the manacles up fiercely when Dirk refused to raise his arms and display his cock. 

He wasn’t exactly embarrassed, not anymore, but he intended to make this shit difficult for everyone involved to satisfy that tiny insignificant part of him that was still nervous to have his dick out for wholesale. 

He also did not remotely care for this crude, self satisfied, homely chode of a man and intended to make that clear as fucking possible, naked and collared and cuffed as he was. When the auctioneer came close enough, Dirk locked eyes and spit right between the man's untrimmed, ungodly eyebrows, and smirked. 

Dirk received a wicked sharp smack across the mouth for his troubles, and the auctioneer called his price. Pretty fucking cheap, if you asked Dirk. 

It was the pause in bids that drew Jake back out of his musings. He refocused on the stage in time to see the auctioneer angrily wipe spittle off his face. The warmer's face was contorted, half clinging onto a smirk, half twisted in a rictus of pain. 

And, gee whiz. A low price like that and a blatantly defiant warmer... Jake certainly didn't envy him. 

There were folks out there who took pleasure in truly breaking a bucking stallion. Jake wasn't one of them, hadn't ever been. A little pain was good fun, of course, but... not like this. 

A lady near him was going back in forth, increasing in small digits with some fellow across the room, raising the bid incrementally. Jake watched the warmer. He even looked like a spitfire, like the sort who'd be equally inclined to bite as to kneel. 

He certainly didn't look dull, that was for sure. Not with eyes like that. Not with the lash mark curling around his thigh. 

The lady raised the bid, and the fellow across the room took his seat, ceded the floor to her. 

"One-twenty! That's one hundred-twenty, going once..." the auctioneer called. "Going twice..." 

"Two hundred!" Jake said suddenly. 

The lady twisted around in surprise at the sound of his voice. Jake himself was rather shocked to have heard it. Slowly, he got to his feet. Well, why not? A bit of excitement to mix things up, right, and he could always sell again if this warmer ran his course too quick. Yes, why not indeed. 

"Two hundred," he repeated, more firmly this time. 

"Well, cheers," said the lady. "Can't top that, I'm afraid, not for a bargain bin whipping boy." 

Jake shrugged in acknowledgement. The warmer hadn't so much as glanced in the direction of his voice. 

"Two hundred, going once, going twice! ...Aaaand sold!" The auctioneer pushed the warmer away, hard enough that he stumbled a little, and the assistants ran out again to get him back in his robes to be led offstage. 

The hit had pinched the inside of his cheek against his teeth, nicking the soft flesh and coating Dirk’s tongue with the copper tang of blood. It wouldn't bruise, and it would probably close up overnight, but it sure as hell stung. The sweet distraction it provided lasted mere minutes before it was washed out by to the burn of being purchased again. He refused to acknowledge the presumably young man who had purchased Dirk for a measly 200. 

His price had been slowly degrading as he gathered scars from various enraged owners, not to mention his happy-go-lucky attitude. They all had some pretty interesting stories for the next poor sap to own him. He was proud of that. 

As many times as Dirk had gone through these motions, the closing call of ‘SOLD’ always sent a hot wave of queasy uncertainty through his stomach. Learning a new master was always the most difficult part of the process. He hated the ‘not knowing’ of it all. Not the slavery, not the cock warming, not the constant, ceaseless fucking or punishments. It had always been the awkward transition into familiarity that filled him with anxiety. He really wasn’t looking forward to getting to know another pompous tool. 

He was just sick of it. 

But he would keep going. 

Once the bidding closed and his price was declared, he was practically thrown off the center stage by the auctioneer. Asshole. One of the assistants, a soft looking girl with strong arms and a kind, sad set to her features, took up his chain and dressed him. She couldn’t look him in the eye and tried not to touch him more than necessary. He couldn’t blame her. 

He was taken to the holding room, a lounge like area with deceptively ornate trappings over cheap wooden tables surrounded by too many damn pillows, specifically set up for the patrons to pick up their new warmers. He was lightly, but very fucking thoroughly sponged with lukewarm water that smelled like various spiced fruits, inspected, and all together made ready for erotic acquirement. His shoulders were starting to ache from keeping them tight. 

Anxiety is funny that way. 

Jake tried not to doubt in his choice of purchase as he made his way out of the main auction hall and over to the side room to collect his new warmer. Chrissy Cringles, what had he been thinking? If this warmer decided to make a break for it, Jake wasn't sure he had it in himself to stop him. Sure, Jake liked a good scrum, but pinning an angry man determined to fight him off was pretty far from a friendly roll in the dirt! 

And Jake had really never liked the idea of forcing someone to submit like that. 

The way into the holding room was blocked by the lady who collected his hopefully not ill-spent money to deliver to the warmer's original owner, then ushered him in through the door. Jake bit the inside of his cheek nervously as he glanced around. The fellow who had bought the warmer before Jake's was pounding away at his in the corner. Eurgh. Jake sincerely hoped he wasn't going to be subjected to that for much longer, because he definitely would not be able to concentrate with that particular soundtrack. 

Jake's new warmer stood stock stiff in his gauzy robe and bare skin, chain leash held by one of the assistant staff. His skin glistened in the intentionally warm lighting of the room from that preemptive bath all the warmers Jake had gotten this way had received prior to meeting him. The fresh charm of it had long worn off, to be frank, though Jake did like how the spiced water smelled. 

Even if it didn't entirely cover up the scent of nervous sweat. 

"I can take it from here," he told the assistant politely. "Thanks for holding him for me!" 

"It was no trouble whatsoever," she assured him, and handed off the chain promptly. "Enjoy your purchase!" 

She absconded off with her useful barrier of a presence, back to do her job, and Jake was left with no choice but to actually look at his warmer. 

There’s always that one over-eager customer that drags his new bedwarmer over to the darkest corner of the room to immediately test out their freshly purchased sleeve. 

Dirk put his back to the pair of them as fast as was physically possible. Too bad that did fuckall to stop the sounds from reaching him from across the dim room. The lighting, honeyed and artificially soft, just made him more tense as he waited. The false sense of comfort chafed against his mind like hot sand. Who did they think they were kidding with this moody bullshit? The manacles were also starting to do some serious chafing of their own as well. 

Even if he didn’t let himself show it, he was relieved and grateful when the assistant removed the iron cuffs, likely because they were destructively ugly, and took up his chain. He refused to rub at the angry red line across his wrists. 

A thin whine pealed through the drowsy room. He closed his eyes. 

“I can take it from here, thanks for holding him for me!” About time. 

He sounded cheerful. Polite in that way that comes with being raised in a well off household. Dirk clenched his jaw. He didn’t like that. There was the slightest tug against the sensitive skin of his neck as the lead assistant handed over Dirk's leash to new, semi permanent hands. 

He opened his eyes. Green, he thought to himself. Verdant green. 

Holy fucking howdy, those eyes were indescribably more intense up close. Jake swallowed hard and forced himself not to fidget nervously. This new one sure did know how to wring all possible scorn out of a scowl, didn't he now. Perhaps it was all to be expected, but Jake was filled with a sense of nervous foreboding. 

_Well, don't just stand here, English,_ he scolded himself internally. _Speak up! Let him know whoabouts is calling his shots now._

"Hullo there!" He injects some forced cheer into his voice out of sheer necessity. "I'm Jake English. You can call me Jake, no need to sir me none unless it feels better to you that way. Erm, I live alone and such, no family in close quarters or none. But I like my home, and my last warmer left a list of duties that you can look over when we get there. Oh, um, that is to say -- can you read? Well if you can't I'll read them for you. So not to worry either way!" 

Oh, zaffer ziggurats, he was babbling his head off, wasn't he. Jake forced himself to reroute verbal tracks with effort. "Right. So. What's your name, then, pretty?" 

Boy was this guy nervous. And too fucking excited to meet him, thought Dirk as he watched an admittedly beautiful mouth make words. 

His new master and caretaker, handsome as he might be, didn’t seem all too confident in his new investment. Or maybe Dirk’s attempts at being immeasurably off-putting were a flying success, as was intended. 

The young proprietor stumbled his way through his short introduction, tripping over details like he wasn’t sure how this worked. One slim brow climbed up Dirk’s forehead as the guy, Jake English, not sir, babbled on. And on. Dirk willed it back into place before it gave anything away. 

Listening quietly, he made a short mental list of strictly need to know basics. No family, lives alone, instructions provided. Easy enough. The dude seemed a little young to be working through another warmer, but who was Dirk to pass judgement on another persons licentiousness. Certainly not a free man. 

He tensed as his mind snagged on one of Jake’s questions. 

Can you read? Can you read. Knowing it’s a common question when receiving a new warmer doesn’t stop it from stinging his intelligence like a sharp little barb. 

“Dirk,” he answered, tart and crisp. “I can read.” _Better than you probably,_ he didn’t say. 

The man behind them groaned out his release. Dirk stared dead ahead, unflinching. 

Jake winced in displeasure as the gent behind them climaxed. He disliked that people took willy nilly advantage of the auction house's holding room to grind one out when they wouldn't have normally, in polite company. It was, frankly, uncomfortable. 

"Right then," he finally replied. "Good to know. Makes it nice and simple for both of us." He debated silently for a moment if he wanted to test out his new warmer. Dirk. He had done so in the past, but boy was that stare making him a mite uncomfortable. 

But then again... wasn't it on him, now, to try to put Dirk in his place? 

Obviously past attempts had failed to teach him true obedience, but that was alright. Jake liked a little spark, honest! He tapped his fingers against the chain thoughtfully. 

"It'll be easier on both of us if you accept this, you know," he finally decided to say. "I'll be good to you, I will, so long as you're not making the sort of ruckus you seemed inclined to kick up, if you follow my meanings and whatnot. No need to respond, of course. Better to ruminate on these sorts of things, isn't it? Down you go, let's see how you do." 

He put a meaningful shoulder on Dirk's bare, skinny shoulder. His bones stuck out sharply against his skin, angular and sharp. And, of course, freckled like stars above the final rays of a sunset. He let himself be briefly entertained by stroking his fingers across the splattered galaxy before firmly pressing down. 

_I’ll be good to you._

Would he though? Not too likely, Dirk mused as he sank to his knees on the stone floor between Jake’s ankles. Ruminate he would, doing what he did best. Everyone should suck cock while they think about their future servitude, he groused to himself, really gets the blood going. 

He let his eyes fall to Jake’s crotch beneath his robe. This was something he was good at. Exceptional. Practiced. He lifted his hands. 

Dirk let his fingertips linger on Jakes thighs, feeling the warm skin and soft hairs brush his skin as he ran them up under Jake’s loose robe. The material shifted easily where he directed it, and held it aloft with one hand. He was almost mad at how nice the dick that lay underneath that dark blue fabric actually turned out to be. Dirk paused in thought. If it was at all appropriate, he would have shrugged. Jake didn’t say he could use his hands. 

So he didn’t. 

He mouthed at the base of Jake’s cock, letting the damp heat of his breath cling to the soft skin and mess of dark curls. Bending further, he rocked until his chin bumped Jake’s sac, then ran the hot tip of his tongue up the underside of the soft length in one smooth drag, lifting the head and sucking it into his mouth. Jakes sighed above him. Dirk let his eyelids dip halfway, _I haven't even started._

He held Jake’s cock snug between the wet roof of his mouth, the head just deep enough to be pinned by the dip near his throat, and the flat of his tongue. He let his mouth become accustomed to the size of Jake, keeping his jaw wide and relaxed as he let his mouth fill with saliva. He was comfortable like this, feeling Jake grow hot and hard and heavy on his tongue as he sucked gently. 

Jake was, also, noticeably clean, like most nobles, thankfully, and smelled pleasantly like musk and earth. Dirk let himself enjoy the heady scent, if only for now, and began a steady rhythm of heavily rolling his tongue. 

Let’s see how _you_ do. 

Holy shitting frig. 

Jake had had some good blowjobs in his life, to be fair. He’d met a good number of warmers who were quite practiced at the whole art of the tongue and slurp. But, uh. 

This was definitely ranking up there. Yeppers. This Dirk fellow had an incredibly talented little licker in there. Not that it felt particularly little. It was more like a slippery, dexterous length of appendage that he was inclined to use to torment Jake til he went totally fucking bonkers. 

Resisting the urge to exclaim any of his thoughts aloud was difficult, but he didn’t think Dirk was the type to swoon over easy praise. Instead, he wound his fingers into the shorter hairs at the base of Dirk’s scalp and rubbed slowly, encouraging him onward. 

“Easy does it now,” he told Dirk, swallowing down the urge to babble at him more. 

Dirk’s eyes flicked up to him, still holding that same fiery note of challenge. Jake tried to pet him soothingly. 

“Showing off a bit?” he asked, unable to completely bite his tongue. “Seems like you know your talents. Tell me, Dirk, since you’ve got a good estimation of your abilities. Are you as good from the other end?” 

Now _that_ was an image. Those long, gangly legs, wrapped around his waist, yes sirree, Jake liked the thought of that. He bit his lip and rocked gently into the warm suction of Dirk’s mouth, admiring the way his pretty lips stretched wide around him. 

If it wasn't for the rock hard cock in his mouth, Dirk would've laughed. Or in the least, snorted incredulously. 

If Jake wanted to know what he could do, the type of shit he was capable of dishing out, Dirk would teach him. Right here. 

He let Jake rock into his throat, waited up to the very moment Jake began to pull out, and pressed up hard with his tongue, bobbing forward to suck Jake down into his throat, locked like a throbbing wet vice. 

If Jake moved, he would swallow around him. Dirk kept his eyes trained on Jake's in fervent defiance, waiting for pleasure to crush his vitreous, calm resolve. 

He dared Jake from his knees while the head of Jake's dick pressed into the back of his throat. 

Try me. 

Ohhhhh wowza, gad-frigging-zookatropics, this boy. Jake's eyes practically rolled back into his head. He had the chain squeezed in his fist so hard he thought the shape would probably be imprinted into his skin. Frozen with his dick buried in Dirk's throat and with Dirk glaring up at him in pure challenge, he tried to decide what to do. 

It would be so easy to wrap the chain around his hand and pull the slack tight, trap Dirk in and fuck into his throat until he left him coughing up cream. So terribly easy. 

Wouldn't teach him a thing, Jake was fairly sure. Play back into his game, make it hard to stop in time, and he had a feeling he wouldn't be able to wipe the smugness from Dirk's face if he gave in and tried to use him. 

And if he just stayed here, well. Dirk would probably start running a little short on air, and they'd just be locked in this fool's game of a standoff. Kneeloff. But, louise-y jeezy, this was heaven. Jake wanted to bury himself in Dirk's throat all day, pin his arms with his knees and straddle his face until Dirk was left wheezing and fucked to shreds. Gods, he wanted it. 

The door that led to the backrooms of the auction swung open. Jake went stiff, watching peripherally as the assistant from before arrived back here with another warmer. Shit, fuck, shit. He couldn't just stand here. 

He swallowed hard and dredged up every last drop of resolve he had, and reached down to firmly tap Dirk's cheek, the usual signal for a warmer to let up on their cockwarming, and tried to gently extricate himself back out of Dirk's mouth. 

Dirk Strider was not about to let Jake get off that easily. 

Well. Not in the technical sense of the phrase. No, he intended to force it. 

With the tapping of Jake's fingers across his cheek came the rise of Dirks sure fire resolve to finish him off right there in front of the assistant and her new customers. To see him climax at the height of ill mannered, expertly conducted by his own throat, social indecency. 

Dirk glared at Jake's handsome flushed expression viciously, letting his eyes go sharp and mean for a delicious, brazen moment of cruel intentions. 

He backed off for one quick breath through his nose, and dived back in with the force of a grounded hurricane. He advanced, letting his shoulders slack as he stretched the long curve of his neck, facefucking himself on Jake's cock. 

Hollowing his cheeks around a destructive suck, he swallowed around Jake. 

Jake yelped aloud as his cock tried to pulse against the wet, fatally hot construction of Dirk’s throat. Oh jeepers and all manners of creepers, oh shit. In one fatal movement, Dirk had brought him from pleasantly stimulated to right on the gosh damn edge. 

Both the assistant and warmer looked up at his yelp, paused in whatever sponge bath activity they’d been involved in, and to Jake’s secondary horror, the door that the buyers used swung open as well. 

And all the while, Dirk had his tongue rubbing him, coaxing at the little twitches his hips tried to give, pulling him deeper and swallowing tight as a vise around him. 

He was going to come. Oh, gods, he was going to do it, right there with all those eyes on him. 

No, frig, he couldn’t. The humiliation alone would drop him dead. 

He grabbed a handful of Dirk’s lovely hair and unceremoniously yanked him backwards, cringing internally, until his dick popped free and rubbed up over Dirk’s face. Fuck, that was altogether a much too attractive picture as well, and he hastily let go and took a step back. 

“That’s quite enough of that,” he said, fighting the urge to grab Dirk again and push back in deep. “I’d like to get you settled before dinner time, so up you come, let’s get a wiggle on.” 

There was no dignified way to hide his achingly hard dick, but he made an effort to rearrange his robe around himself, hoping he would go soft quickly enough. 

A few more seconds, and he was sure he could have made Jake's eyes roll back, felt him come undone against Dirk's tongue. The sure fact that Jake would have the displeasure of walking around with that rock hard dick under his robe helped soothed the prideful burn of spite unfulfilled. 

He stood, using the back of his hand to wipe the precum and saliva off his lips and cheek where Jake's dick slid against him on it's forced evacuation of his throat. 

He ignored the ache of his knees and jaw, gently throbbing with the effort exerted from his unaccomplished blow job. 

Despite how unfulfilled he felt, watching Jake scramble to hide his erection from the oncoming crowd certainly brought Dirk a very novel sense of satisfaction. 

“Modesty doesn't suit you,” he deadpanned, condescending and low, rolling his shoulders back. He could still smell Jake on his lips and tongue. If English was anything like Dirks past owners, than his little transgression would undoubtedly buy him a one way ticket into disciplinary action. 

Not that he minded. Each time he broke down his master's nerves enough to be reprimanded put him a step closer to his next auction, his next location, advancing him further towards his lost objective. 

He would work, chip away at Jake's patience until there was nothing but the oppressive drive to push Dirk away. Running a hand through his hair, he gauged how long it might take for Jake's patience to wear thin. 

Presumably, not long. 

Dirk had always been easy to abandon. 

"Alrighty," Jake said, and took a deep, steadying breath. He tightened his grip on the leash again. "Come along." 

The warm afternoon air outside was not as bracing as he could have hoped for. Instead, it only made the swirling muck in his head worse. He'd really taken a big old crap followed by landing himself ass first into the shitter, hadn't he? 

Well, no, that wasn't fair. Jake risked a glance back at Dirk. He was still doing a kind thing, here, wasn't he? Snatching up this woebegone warmer before some whip-happy jerk of a buyer could do so? Surely there was some merit to be found in that, even if he didn't find it much of a comfort at the moment. And, well. 

At least he could presumably get some top notch dick-to-mouth out of the deal. 

The stormy silence from Dirk was only making his nerves worse. "Hope you don't mind a bit of a stroll!" he said, aiming for chipper. "I live a far bit off from here, but I enjoy stretching my legs and taking a turn around town. You've got the gams for it, so I'm sure you'll do fine." 

By the time Jake had walked Dirk to his new home he was, admittedly, somewhat fatigued. He hadn't realized how little actual walking he apparently didn't do. The place was pretty damn sequestered. Jake didn't seem too bothered by the heat or the distance or the boner, which only made Dirk distrust him more. But the house. 

Correction, to call Jake's home a simple “house” would be a vast disservice to those who built it. 

It was beautiful, gold and green trappings stretched over white granite or marble. Gold clung to everything from tiny beads on tapestries to beautifully crafted screen dividers. It smelled rich and spicy, thick with burning herbs. 

Unfortunately, it was abhorrently cluttered due to the massive amount of extravagant shit inside it. 

Jake also had to give him a tour of the entire fucking place. They walked past, and sometimes stepped over, gifts of every shape and size and substance, some still bundled up in silk or only half unwrapped like someone gave up once they figured out that what was inside wasn't nearly worth the effort. It was just filled with things, everywhere. 

The place was lousy with treasures and trinkets, none of which seemed to come from the same place of origin. It had his head spinning to think of how much it all would have costed. Somehow, none of the decadent taste seemed to reach Jake. It just didn’t suit him. Not that Dirk really knew Jake anyways, or intended to. 

None of that mattered though. Not once they got to the bath. The sight of it made a warm flush bloom across his cheeks. 

The tub itself was massive, straight out of Dirk's wildest ablutionary wet dreams, wide and deep and perfect. He nearly broke face at the sight of it, but then Jake was tugging him along, talking about something or other and ruining the moment. 

Oh, Dirk had definitely been eyeing up his bath. Perfect. At least there was one thing that might work out between them. Nothing better than a good long suckjob while relaxing in a nice hot soak, in Jake's opinion. Perhaps they could find common ground there. 

"Anyhoozle," he said aloud. "And finally down here on the left is my bedroom!" He hopped over the annoying miniature ornate chest he'd gotten a couple birthdays ago habitually and then spun around to gesture wide. 

His bedroom was, if he was asked, probably his favorite part of his home. It might have been a little on the extravagant side for his tastes, but he loved his massive sprawling bookshelves full of stage plays and novels and compilations of the little funny one acts he'd seen put on around town. There was really no relaxing evening like curling up for a reread in his big bed, drapes all pulled shut except for the one that would let his bedside lamp illuminate his book, a warm body tucked against him and drowsily suckling away at his cock. 

...Yeah, Jake hoped Dirk would at least be pliable enough for some evening cockwarming before his nightly fuck. 

"So, that should be everything," Jake concluded aloud. Dirk was surveying the room, looking neither impressed nor unimpressed, but just a bit scathing. "Any questions? No? Good. I've got that old list from the last one around here somewhere..." He cast around the room and failed to spot it. He'd probably shoved it in a drawer somewhere. Ah well, he'd unearth it some other time. 

_Anyhoozle?_

O...kay. Jake was a weirdo, Dirk thought, but a weirdo with one hell of a stellar bath and an admittedly vast library kept unkept in his bedroom. Parchment, rolled or bound, spilled over the shelves in droves. He itched to look through them, hands clenched as he wondered what manner of compositions he would find in Jake’s wreck of literary works spilling onto the floor. 

Dirk had never been tidy, exactly, but he knew how to take care of his papers. When he had them. He would have to do something about these, at some point. But not now. 

He had planned to wait Jake out until he was given some sort of order, crossing his arms and eyeing up some particularly well-used papers on a shelf. Jake must really like those. When Jake didn’t seem to even know where the previous warmer’s itinerary was, Dirk rolled his eyes under their lids. 

He looked at Jake from over his shoulder, tossing him a tired look. Fine, he could work with the short list Jake spelled out earlier, and what he didn’t already know, he would learn. 

"I suppose the only thing you really need to know straight off the bat is that I prefer to rise bright and early at half past six," Jake decided on saying. "So you're to be my newest alarm, got it? I want that pretty mouth on my dick when I wake." He considered for a moment, then waved a hand dismissively. "Anything else I'll let you know as I think of it. Standard rules apply, generally speaking!" 

It really was edging close to dinnertime, not that Jake had much of an extravaganza planned or anything, but he figured Dirk might be a bit peckish after the day he'd had. Nothing but a dash of precome in his stomach, most like, unless he'd had breakfast. 

The trouble was that being near his bed made him want to throw Dirk down over it and have his merry way with him, but... 

"Alright." Jake turned back to Dirk. "I hate those same-same robes they always put you lot in on auction, so I've got some stuff you can wear on the leftmost side of the closet, some draperies and chitons and such. Why don't you get cleaned up and put on something nice, and when you're done with that, run me a bath. I'm going to scramble up some dinner while you get that done. Capisce?" 

Dirk was having a hard time keeping his face impassive as Jake went on. 

Not that anything the guy was saying was inherently surprising, considering Dirk’s line of work. It was in the way he carried on. Jake went from solid orders to almost casual conversation like a swinging pendulum, back and forth. It threw him off. Dirk blinked and focused his attention. 

So Jake was an early riser. Fine, Dirk didn’t catch many solid hours of sleep anyways. He tried not to be offended at the term, “you lot,” but decided it wasn’t worth it when Jake waved him off to choose his own robes. 

That was something, at least. It wasn’t a big deal, Jake was, presumably, going to do something he deemed more important than get choosy over what covered Dirk. Clothes were only temporary for him anyways, and amounted to the same functionality as curtains on a window, made to be pulled aside. But he still liked the small amount of choice. 

Dirk caught himself before he let show the little bubble of excitement at the mention of the bath, turning his face enough to look at Jake form the corner of his eye. He shrugged. 

“Capisce.” 

"Excellent!" Jake clapped Dirk on the back, grinning at Dirk's immediate disgruntled expression. "Come here, then, pretty thing." 

He caught ahold of the leash again to pull Dirk into his space and pressed a thumb to Dirk's chin, applying pressure until Dirk tilted his head back. It unclipped easy enough, and Dirk stood rigidly still for the entire brief procedure. Then Jake unhooked Dirk's manacles, baring his wrists for the time being. At least until bedtime, he figured. 

"There, you've been set loose." Jake dropped a wink at him, just to see if he'd get a reaction. "Try not to break anything. It's a bit early to break out the paddles, don't you think? Now get going." 

He patted Dirk's hip to push him back again and dropped the leash and manacles on a nearby chest of drawers. Good enough. He'd stick them somewhere more permanent later. Probably. 

Wondering to himself what Dirk would end up picking to wear, Jake left him to it and headed for the kitchen instead. He could show Dirk around here another time, but Jake liked cooking, and he liked having his own damn space sometimes, so he usually didn't let the warmers help out with the whole business of meal making unless they were getting food for themselves. It was a lot less hassle that way, honestly. Besides, Dirk seemed like the kind to contrarily refuse to make meals for himself, and Jake had more control over making him eat this way. 

_Ouch._

Jake’s hand against his back left a stinging print between his shoulder blades, tingly and annoying across his stiff shoulders. He hoped, spitefully, that it hurt Jake’s hand. 

Doubtful. Dirk was building the distinct impression that Jake was not capable of delicacy as he was tugged forward and made to look up with a harsh thumb against the bone of his chin. He held his breath until Jake stepped away, free of his leash and manacles. 

The moment Jake was effectively out of sight, Dirk flexed his hands appreciatively and let his shoulders sag, walking over to the directed closet space. Manacles, he hissed in the back of his mind. He hated those fucking manacles. 

He took his time sifting through the limited selection. Limited in number, but not in quality. 

He chose a chlamys of soft, forgiving green material that swayed gracefully with the motion of his hands. This single sheet of fabric probably cost more than most people his age could dream of accumulating over months of actual work. He wondered if Jake had worked a day in his life for any of this outrageous wealth. 

Again, doubtful. 

The clasp on his left shoulder was cool against his skin, and slipped neatly into a small loop of dark green thread at his back, sitting smooth and unobtrusive against his skin. Skulls, he noted. Both claps were made of tiny, hand carved, amber skulls. 

Classy. Must be a custom job. Dirk ran his thumb over the tiny, hollow sockets and wondered, not for the first time, if Jake was insane. 

To this, he was not even the slightest bit doubtful. 

Dirk rubbed his sore wrists, massaged the tender skin beneath his scratchy collar, and started his walk towards Jake’s bath. Was he supposed to run the bath and then join Jake in the kitchen? 

He honestly didn’t care, since he fully intended to stay tubside until Jake came to collect him. 

Jake hummed under his breath as he gathered up a variety of foods for dinner. This was a part he did enjoy about getting a new warmer, to his mild chagrin. There was something enjoyable about plying them with flavors and seeing what they liked, in feeding them from his fingers and seeing if they took to it or not. 

The ones who lasted had often been the ones who didn't fuss much at the idea, though not always. Dirk was such a prickly thing that Jake felt rather unable to predict him. It was a bit thrilling, though still nerve-wracking. 

There was just a great pleasure in seeing someone submit to wearing the clothes he had chosen and the food he offered. Perhaps they may not have had the most choice, but Jake adored seeing the different reactions they had. It was like a little story he could pick apart from their mannerisms and enjoy for himself. 

Not that he was good about the enjoying. No, even by most standards he burned through it too fast and then was left bored and listless. 

Ah well. Nothing to be done about it. 

He grabbed some figs and grapes to add to his growing collection of finger foods. Dinner in a bath was the best, in Jake's personal opinion. Especially if it was dinner and a show, but he figured he'd wait and give Dirk time before requesting a sexy dance. 

Though he was very interested in seeing if Dirk's lovely gams were as freckled as his face, and how they'd look flexing and stretching out long and limber for him. 

He hummed to himself, pleased, then set all the food on a platter to bring into the bathroom and to see what Dirk had gotten up to without him. 

The bath. 

The fucking _bath._

White clean walls, tropical breathing plants, and one wide, deep, obscenely inviting copper tub bracketed by tall, open windows. It’s not as if he hadn’t been cleaned plenty of times since being relocated, hell he’d been wiped down more times than he could count prior to the auction. 

But bathing. _Really taking a bath._ It had been far too long. 

Dirk took his time leafing through an admittedly impressive selection of salts, soaps, solutions, and other numerous bath accoutrements, all set inside an ornate cabinet running parallel to the tub. None of them smelled anything alike, ranging from heavy musk to sweet fruits and flowers. Dirk decided to go with the middle ground, warm lavender and rosemary with a soft citrus. Maybe lime? Nice. 

He sat, perched on the warming copper lip of the tub, and dropped in the small wrapped bundle, watching it sink to the bottom of the large basin. Steam was steadily rising up to meet him now, thick with the scent he’d chosen, pink petals rising up to bob along the surface. He poked at them and let the steam bead against his skin. 

It was almost too pretty. He felt a sticky ball of spite hang in the back of his throat like bile, hating how his entire body fell into this act mechanically. Instinctually. He crushed a petal between his fingers, grinding the delicate fibers beneath the water. 

He wasn’t sure how long he glared at the one god damn petal like a lunatic, but he almost didn’t hear Jake come in behind him. Well. If it wasn’t for the obnoxious humming, that is. Dirk watched Jake carry a plate in one hand, the muscles of his arm pulled tight under the strain of what was as inarguably ludicrous amount of finger foods. 

Keeping a straight face around the wacky shit Jake pulled was proving to be difficult. 

"Oh, excellent," Jake said upon seeing that Dirk had followed his instructions to the letter, even if he didn't look all too pleased about it. "You catch on quick. Hold this for me." He thrust the plate into Dirk's hands so he could strip. 

The bath smelled pleasant, which was nice. Some of the scents he had for it were really a bit much even by his tastes. Jane kept gifting him the weirdest ones and Jake just didn't have the heart to redirect her towards something less pungent. Dirk's tastes were clearly softer. 

He made quick work of tossing his clothes aside, eager to get in the water. Dirk was watching him with a flat, appraising sort of gaze, but Jake was used to that. Par for the course with new warmers, really. He let Dirk get a decent eyeful before stepping into the tub to test the temperature. The heat bit into his toes like that girl a few warmers ago had done a few times, and he wiggled them appreciatively before sinking down into the water. 

"You've done well," he told Dirk, because rewarding good behavior was all a part of the process of bringing a new pet to heel, teaching them expectations, blah blah, he'd done it a thousand times before and had long since begun ignoring anyone who offered advice. "Are you hungry?" 

He didn't bother to give Dirk time to reply, already reaching for a nibble of candied ginger to hold out for him to take between those pretty lips. 

So Jake was attractive. Jake certainly knew it. The throngs of gift givers that worked to fill his house with junk probably knew it. Dirk _definitively_ knew it. 

He could admit that much, he did have two functioning human eyes, after all. Not to mention the show Jake just put on for him, disrobing like he’s got a point to prove. Dirk watched Jake lower himself into the water, the muscles of his arms and chest pulled tight in a wonderful display of strength. He forced his eyes up to Jake’s face, which wasn’t exactly an escape, since it just meant he had to watch Jake’s face flush against the heat around him. Awesome. 

He also noted, sourly, that Jake's eyes creased handsomely at the edges when he smiled, holding the candied ginger up towards Dirk’s lips and praising his obedience. 

The moment hung in the air. 

Water beaded across the back of Dirks arm and neck where the steam gathered, stuck against his curves. It tickled his skin as the forming drops rolled down and off into the water, loud against all that quiet. He wanted to rub at them, smooth them away, but his hands were full with the damn huge tray of food. Dirk could feel his hair curling around his ears. It was aggravating. 

Jake was aggravating. Fine as hell, but so aggravating. 

He arched one eyebrow, letting his eyes slide lazily from the candied ginger pinched between Jake's fingers, down to his nauseatingly charming face, and asked in as flat a tone as he could manage perched on a tub filled with his interests, “Not afraid I'll bite?” 

Dirk's expression and reaction was well to be expected. Testing, considering, Jake knew. He'd done this song and dance before many a time. He'd had a warmer who was used to eating food off the ground after it had been dropped for them, and another who simply didn't trust that he wouldn't take the food away if they didn't ask permission first. 

It took time, but they always adjusted, and the process of their adjustment was absotively fascinating. 

If only routine was half as satisfying to carry out. 

"Oh, I'm sure you'll bite at some point or another," Jake said lightly. "But if you do, we'll end up wasting all this nice food, and that would be a shame, don't you think? You must be hungry, and I'd bet all my drachmas my food's a sore sight better than anything they toss you when you're in the slave pens. Clearly they haven't been fattening you up." 

He resists, with difficulty, the impulse to pinch Dirk's exposed hip bone. It was quite the pointy fucker, that one. Jake would have to take care not to lie directly on it lest he take a swift stab to his tender belly. 

"So," he said, wiggling the ginger. "Going to bite, or no? I think you'll have to chew at least once tonight if you're planning to eat, and I've got plans that don't involve your mouth either way." 

Jake was right, Dirk thought as he watched the ginger bob up and down. On all accounts. 

However. 

“You’re right.” 

Turning his face away, Dirk made a slow show of looking over the nutrient obese platter. He leaned forward, curling his spine to lifting a wet slice of clementine between his teeth carefully. He turned up his head, letting the small wedge roll back onto his tongue as he locked eyes with Jake. 

Dirk chewed, swallowed, and licked the juice off of his lips. “Would hate to waste any of this.” 

That singular eyebrow curved back up into its incredulous position. He relaxed back onto his perch. 

“I don’t like ginger. Sweet or otherwise.” 

Those eyebrows. They kept wriggling around like caterpillars. Jake very much wanted to bite them. 

There'd be time for that later. For now, he smiled big and wide and popped the ginger in his mouth. He made a show of chewing and enjoying the stiff, sticky bite of it, the way the ginger zinged his tongue. 

"Delicious," he said around the mouthful, mouth watering from the sharp flavor. Then he plucked up a a pair of almonds and offered them up lazily. "How about these? Care to taste these nuts, or do they offend your taste buds as well?" 

Dirk bit the inside of his cheek, hard. He may have broken skin. As if the chewing show hadn't been enough. 

You have got to be kidding me with this. 

He leveled the weight of the platter on his hip and grabbed the far end with one hand. Making good use of his freed hand, Dirk slapped the bottom of Jake’s turned up palm, sending deez nuts tumbling into the bathwater. 

“Yes, they do.” 

Jake caught one before it could sink too far and found the other one by rooting around with his toes. He popped them in his mouth and crunched down loudly and wetly without batting a lash. 

The game was afoot, and Jake would be damned before he would be the one to lose. 

"That's too bad," he said, bright and cheerful. "There's some sausage if that's more to your taste! You seem to like it well enough if your ogling was any clue." 

Dirk let himself grimace down at Jake. He felt like he deserved that much after watching the horrible display of Jake fishing a nut up with his toes and putting it directly into his mouth. 

Bathwater or no, that shit was straight up disgusting. 

"And you seem to be under the sad impression that every look you get is a positive one," Dirk said, toneless. He wasn't even going to point out that Jake was the one that bought him, so who was really the bigger sausage fan here? 

Probably still me, he thought dryly. 

"At least one out of three of those dagger stabs of your eyes have been circling appreciation, I'd wager," Jake said brightly, popping another bite in his mouth. "Are you planning to starve yourself to try and slither from my grasp? I'll have you know I enjoy a bit of give under my grip. Your elbows look like they could be used as weapons of deadly force." 

He made sure to smack his lips in noisy appreciation, then plucked a grape off the platter. "Eat," he told Dirk firmly, and held it up towards his mouth. Such pretty pink lips they were, too. Jake liked the look of them _very_ much, thanks. 

Some bed warmers Dirk had come across in his travels unwittingly prided themselves in pleasing their masters. A good number of slaves had taken the shitty situation into determined, shackled hands, and refined and preened their servitude into a glimmering profession. Polishing the proverbial turd, as it were. 

It made life easier for them, gave them something to take pride in within a life designed to strip away pride incarnate. 

Dirk was not one of them. Never intended to be. 

Leaning in, he opened his mouth to accept the tiny plump fruit, dragging his lips across Jake's fingertips slowly and sucking the little orb into his mouth. He leaned back, giving Jake a moment to appreciate Dirk's obedience. 

He focused, tilted his chin to accomplish the precise trajectory needed, and spit the grape out into the air. It made a perfect beeline for the skin between Jake's eyes. The sound it made against Jake's skin almost made Dirk smile. He smirked to satisfy his face as the grape made a hearty little 'plop' into the tub. 

Jake yelped, caught off guard by the thwack of the grape smacking him directly between the peepers. And after that pretty show Dirk had made of giving in and eating something, too! 

"Ow!" he said, rubbing his forehead frustratedly. The smug look Dirk was wearing really only added insult to grave injury. "Fine then, waste away to skin and bone if it pleases you so much!" 

In probably transparent effort to escape Dirk's radiating aura of being an utter weisenheimer, he ducked his head under the water to wet his hair, scrubbing in irritation at his scalp. Right. So this is what he got for buying on a discount, clearly. Jake had met a fair few in his life who would advise him to take a belt to Dirk for his behavior, but frankly Jake thought that such a persnickety douchemonger of a warmer would probably only take punishment as further encouragement to misbehave. 

He found the grape by nearly squashing it with his toe and fished it out mournfully. Jake dropped it off the side of the tub as he sat back up, hoping that Dirk might step on it, then set himself to washing. It was definitely too soon to try trusting Dirk with helping him bathe, but if he had his way... 

"Fuss all you like," he told Dirk as he studiously scrubbed. "But I'll have that brattiness worked out of you one way or another by the end. You'll see." 

Dirk eyed Jake as he scrubbed away at his tan shoulder, the picture of disinterest. Alright, so he did think Jake was pretty cute with a pout pulling at his lips. Cute in a very insufferable kind of way. 

He let his focus slide back to the flat cornucopia at his hip, picking out another sliver of citrus and popping it into his mouth. Sure, he would eat, but by his own hand, and only what he needed. 

"I'm sure." Dirk breathed, looking out the tall window across the bath. A garden sat beyond the thick slats, green and lush. He wondered how much pushing he could get away with before Jake took him over his knee or locked him down. Locks he didn't mind, he could manage. Though he would rather not have the manacles back on. Whipping though? It varied. 

Whipping was situational. He could enjoy it, done right. Or it could send him spiraling into a manic episode. _Situational._

He chewed, and pondered, letting his mind wonder as he plucked bites off of the tray, one after the next. 

Stupid Dirk was crunching merrily away now that Jake was ignoring him. Of freaking course. 

Jake used the pitcher to pour some of the bathwater over his hair and face, shutting his eyes against the sting of soap. Once he finished rinsing his hair, he deemed himself clean enough for the time being. He had another duty to attend to before he was done with this bath, and then he could finally finish enjoying himself. 

Dirk seemed to have spaced him out, staring off into the middle distance as he chewed. Well, hopefully he wouldn't be startled enough to drop the tray. 

Jake placed one of his wet hands on Dirk's thigh and used the other to lift the drape of the chlamys off his lap, curious to see what goods he'd gifted himself with. 

He didn't yelp, or scream, or shriek. Thankfully. Being groped or undressed wasn't exactly new to him. 

But he did go rigid from heel to crown and snap his free hand down around the wrist of Jake's hand that was busy _lifting up Dirk's robe_ for an impromptu look-see as his crotch. Dirk grunted, upending half the tray with his surprised jolt. He hated surprises. Despised them, to be very fucking specific. 

"The fuck?" he choked out as fruits thumped against the bathroom floor. 

"Just getting a gander at you," Jake said, frowning at the sound of food hitting the floor. At least it stayed out of the bath this time. "Just hold still, I want a look. Or! Better yet, stick a leg in the tub. Spread out for me, won't you, doll?" 

He tugged meaningfully at the hand Dirk was currently holding prisoner and patted his nearer leg with his free one. Dirk looked entirely flummoxed in a way that was, frankly, adorable. 

Dirk released Jake's wrist when he tugged at the hold, but did _not,_ in fact, throw a leg in. 

"No," he said, pushing his chamys back down over his thighs with a sharp tug. "I don't think I will." 

Was the tray just a trap to over encumber him the entire time? Was Jake actually sly enough to plan this out? He sure as fuck hoped not. That kind of preemptive strategy could make trouble for Dirk later. He didn't need to be wasting effort matching wits with his new, foster master. 

He tried to relax the tight feeling at the edges of his mouth, but couldn't quite work it out of his expression. Or his spine. Or his shoulders. 

He hoped to Hades he wasn't blushing. 

"Oh, come on," Jake said. "It's not like I won't be seeing it all anyway! Just trying to get the lay of the land." 

Jake snuck his hand away from Dirk's thigh and tugged up what he could of the back of his chlamys instead, lifting it enough to catch a glimpse of a freckled hip and the soft curve of his ass. He could feel himself grinning as he tried to slip his fingers under the fabric enough to cop a feel. 

"You're acting all tough but I bet you're as soft as silk down here," he said. "There's nothing softer in the world than a pretty warmer's thighs and hole, after all. No need to be ashamed!" 

_Wow, alright._

"You're probably right," Dirk deadpanned as Jake's hands made themselves _very_ known. He pressed into Jake's palm where it met his thigh, seeming to encourage Jake's exploration. Instead, he looked Jake dead in the eyes and dumped the remaining fruit into the tub with him. 

Jake laughed aloud. "Hey now, I'm done bathing! It's your own bathwater you're ruining, you know." 

He pushed off the tub, rose up to his full height, and stepped out of the water, dripping and naked and just a teeny bit looming over Dirk. It was his house; he'd drip where he liked, and he didn't mind putting his plonker closer to eye level with the recalcitrant bastard still perched on the tub. 

No matter. He rubbed his feet dry on the rug briskly without saying a word to hint at his intentions, and then caught Dirk soundly under the armpit, putting some of his strength into it to try to haul him up to his feet. 

He wasn't sure how, but Jake was more intimidating standing over Dirk naked and smiling than he ever had been fully clothed. Naked and dripping and yeah that sure was his vexingly nice cock right there in front of Dirks mouth. 

Face. In front of his face. 

He had more muscle than Dirk, and frankly, a lot more body hair. Dirk swallowed involuntarily. It wasn't the nakedness that sent warm, unwanted sparks squirming through Dirk's stomach. Nope. It was the force that body was probably capable of. He was busy hating how attractive he found Jake when he felt hands slip under his armpits, hefting him up from his perch. He snapped his hands up to Jake's forearms on reflex as he rose. 

For the second time in under and hour, Dirk questioned, "The fuck?" 

Jake's hand was busy at the clasp of the chlamys, one arm bracketing Dirk in against him, holding him still and caught, until the clasp popped loose and he had to let go to yank the fabric off of Dirk. 

It all came loose and fell away before Dirk could as much as try to catch it, and he tossed it somewhere behind him without a second thought, drinking in all the skin before him. Freckles, spanning Dirk's shoulders, trailing down his skin like kisses, the sharp cut of his ribs and hips, those long, long legs. 

Jake wanted to pin him flat and eat him alive, bite moans from his thighs and lick explicatives from his sweet pink nipples and drink music from his mouth. 

Yep, alright. This sure as punch made up for the rest of the fuss, if he got to plow these fields. 

Stepping back in, he grabbed hold of Dirk by the hip and shoulder and pressed him back, back, until he had him shoved up neat and pretty against the wall. 

Dirk felt the muscles of Jake's wrists flex and pull underneath his fingers, easily popping the clasp of his robe and sweeping it away. There's just enough time to think, _oh shit,_ before Jake has him stripped naked and backed up against the far wall, boxing Dirk in like a brick wall. He hissed when his back hit the cool surface, an insane contrast to the burning heat from Jake's hands at his hip and shoulder and basically his entire god damn front. He was _close._ So close. 

Dirk's pulse hammered against his ears, caught up in the all too rapid change in position, and what a position it was. Fuck, Jake was _hot,_ literally, his skin radiated steam from the bath. The heat pulled the air out of Dirk's lungs and made him dizzy. He took a sharp breath in through his teeth and tightened his grip, still wrapped around Jake's arms. 

" _English,_ " he bit out, letting the name grate through his teeth like an accusation while he fought to keep his expression closed. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

"Dirk," Jake crooned back, dipping in closer to run his teeth over Dirk's ear. Yes, this was more like it. 

He started by rubbing his hand down Dirk's exposed side, feeling the softness of his skin stretched over muscle and bone under both his palm and his lips as he mouthed at Dirk's neck. From there it was a simple step, really, to carelessly shove a leg between Dirk's and force him to spread just enough for him to slip a hand down. 

_There we are,_ he thought. This was what he'd been denied just a bit ago. He fondled Dirk gently -- he wasn't a monster! -- exploring the velvet of his skin and the way he jerked back involuntarily at the brush of Jake's thumb over the slit at the head. 

His foreskin was uncut, so Jake assumed that he'd been sold as a warmer when he was older, rather than selected for it as a child. It made sense -- it was really the high class courtesans that were chosen and trained like that. Dirk would've been sold older, maybe not yet prickly and unprepared for this life. 

Well, no matter. Jake slid his hand further down to cup and weigh Dirk's balls in his hand, rolling them slowly to get a measure for them in his head. He'd take a better gander later, but this would do for now. He let his hand quest further back, seeking the best and most cloistered of territories. 

His name said like _that,_ paired with the teeth against the sensitive shell of his ear made Dirk turn his head away, clenching his jaw and pressing tighter to the wall at his back. His chest heaved as it worked to swallow down one sharp gasp after the next. This was bad. _Very bad._

Wet hands slid down his sides, soft lips worked at his neck. Jake was being excruciatingly gentle, all things considered. It made some callous little knot in his chest clench and release, unsure how to react. 

A thigh pressed between his legs, pushing them apart. Yeah, he was pretty sure he knew where this was going. 

As that hot hand dropped lower, Dirk realized he still had his own hands stupidly cuffed around Jake's wrists, doing fuck all to slow the guy down as he made himself familiar with Dirk's dick and- yep. Those are definitely his balls being weighed and measured. He let out a shaky breath as Jake worked on him, rolling them gently and heating Dirk from the dick up. Blush crept across his chest and burned his cheeks and ears. He had started sweating, at some point. The heat worked against him, all soft and oozy and creeping into his body through Jake. _Shit._ He swallowed, struggling not to shift his weight or shoulders. The hand moved on. And _back._

_Oh- No sir._

He pressed against Jake's arms in a shallow warning, tightening his thighs and angling his face back towards Jake when he felt that hand start to meander past his balls. Which was tricky, considering the smart mouth pressed into the delicate exposed skin between his jaw and collar. He licked his lips, steadied his nerves on one deep breath. 

"You about done?" It came out a little husky, but stern. Dirk was proud of himself, if anything. 

"Juuuuust about," Jake murmured, licking at the tendon standing out in Dirk's neck. He bit down against it, just a playful nibble. "One more thing to test out here." 

He wiggled his fingers around until he could nestle them just behind Dirk's balls and press in searchingly, rubbing slowly and feeling for Dirk's reactions. It was no real tragedy if he didn't enjoy this sort of thing, but, well. Jake liked it a lot when the boys he took did, the way they'd writhe and moan and smear themselves in the evidence of their enjoyment. Jake _loved_ to watch. 

It wasn't the only thing he loved to watch -- but still. 

"Here's how it's going to go," he said into Dirk's ear, still rubbing slow circles. "You stay put here and get yourself cleaned up. If you feel really enterprising, you can even get rid of the spilled fruit, but you get clean, and get yourself ready. I want you in my bed in half an hour, no more than that, slick and ready for me. Can you do that for me, Dirk?" 

Dirk grunted when Jake closed his teeth around the delicate tendon at his throat, already strained and sensitive from holding his head sideways against the pull of the collar. He grunted, a tight little _hm,_ because there was not a chance in hell he was going to let Jake hear him moan. He peeled his hands off Jake’s wrist and pressed them to the cold wall, trying to remove as much physical contact as he could control. 

When Jake’s warm fingers dipped behind his balls and started up a hot, rhythmic massage against a very sensitive spot, it lit him up. A crease cut deep between Dirk’s brows, knees locking to keep himself from rolling his hips into Jake’s hand. No, he thought bitterly, _not a chance._ He forced himself still, biting down on the inside of his cheek to keep from sighing or gasping as Jake pressed orders directly into his ear. A shiver rippled up his spine as his body protested against his demand for concealment. _Traitor._

Jake was turning him on and he fucking _hated it._ He rolled his hands into fists against the wall. 

“I guess you’ll just have to find out,” he rumbled out in a near pant. Too close. 

"Guess I will," Jake replied lightly. 

He leaned up the final scant distance to close his lips and tongue around Dirk's delicate earlobe and suck on it thoughtfully, before leaning back with the smacking sound of separation. Grinning, he tapped Dirk on the nose. 

"See you soon, one way or another, peach," he concluded, before stepping back to admire Dirk's tense, agitated posture and the light flush across his face. Perfect. Flustered and riled up and... well. 

Pleasing. Pleasurable. Finally, at last, interesting again. 

Eager to see what would transpire next, Jake turned on his heel and left the bathroom to go find himself a final snack for the evening since Dirk had done him the favor of showering him in his first choice. And then, and then, to get himself situated for bed, and to wait.


End file.
